


A Heart Hewn of Elven Stone

by Thevina



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Belegost, F/M, Gen, Menegroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevina/pseuds/Thevina
Summary: A story of two cultures set during some of their earliest interactions as seen through the eyes of a unique Dwarf of Belegost.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 4





	A Heart Hewn of Elven Stone

And in the mirror, who should I see, but myself?  
Thevina Longbeard

_Hikhthuzul adrân duhû khama akrâgugkukh._  
"Always have time for manners."  
<— The Dwarrow Scholar

1\. Introductions

"Get up!" Davina hissed. "Get up, get up, get up!"

The command insistent, Thevina slowly responded, opening her eyes to a uniquely familiar face.

"It's early," Thevina growled with no menace, snuggling against her sister.

"It's not! And today's the day we're officially introduced to the king and queen. Come on! We need to eat, and wish and get our beards plaited, and—"

"I know, I know."

Thevina pulled back so she could see Davina's face, emotions dancing in her expression like light bouncing off a newly-faceted diamond.

"You're really excited about this," she said, moving her cold toes near Davina's warm ones so that Davina yelped and swatted at her.

"Of course I am! You know how momentous an occasion this is, not just for our family, but for Thingol's tribe."

"I can imagine some pale eyebrows raised to the clouds if you said the Elves were in a tribe," Thevina observed, at last stretching and sitting up. 

"Family. Clan, household, whatever they call it," Davina continued, swinging her legs off the side of their shared bed to the heated stone floor below. "Vram's making bacon."

"Now you have my full attention!" Thevina said, her twin's excitement cutting through the fog of the dream she'd been having when woken up. It was a recurring dream, or nightmare, depending on how far in it she progressed. She and Davina, axes drawn, roaring at the dragon raining fire down on them, flames in lines like an infernal forest. "Bacon," she muttered at the vestiges of the dream. "Bacon will make everything better."

"Yes, of course it will," Davina said impatiently, pulling on her jerkin, pants and tunic, then sitting on a stool to put on and lace up her boots. A few moments later, both Dwarves walked at a brisk pace to the communal kitchen and dining hall, specially annexed within their section of the forest. The trees of this particular forest grew both up from the floor and down from far above, a feat of excavation and engineering conceived here in Doriath, for the first time in Dwarvish history. Carving trees from stone was also a first, but given the preferences of the designer, hardly surprising. The identical twins deftly navigated through actual timbers of scaffolding, soon sitting down at an impressive solid oak table.

"There's no need to put the entire meal in your mouth at once," a bass voice intoned over their bowed heads. "The ceremony is still over an hour away."

"'m hungry," Davina said without apology.

"You might take time to breathe," Thevina said before blowing on and taking a mouthful of coffee.

"I'm breathing just fine," Davina said, her truth cut short as she inhaled a bit of egg and commenced several minutes' worth of coughing, hacking, and her face turning an alarming shade of purple before unhindered breathing returned.

"Here. Take this," Vram stated, placing a short, squat glass of something peridot-colored in front of Davina.

"You're not getting her drunk!" Thevina said, aghast.

"Not with that amount," her uncle said patiently. "It will only relax her enough to stay on task and not ricochet around like a bat."

"I quite like bats," Davina sulked, quaffing the zhîkomir and making a face.

"The ceremony won't take long, will it?" Thevina asked, her own preferences for drawing and carving coming out more petulantly than hoped. "Not that it matters," she said hurriedly. "This is a once-ever experience, to be savored and remembered."

"I hope they have cake," her sister said, using a bread loaf end to sop up the remaining vestiges of her breakfast.

"You only think with your stomach," Thevina groused.

"It's brought me this far."

"We're just over thirty!"

"Feels like yesterday when you two were born," Vram said, pulling up a chair to join them at the great wooden expanse. He took a mouthful of ale and placed his tankard in front of him, using a cloth to wipe at his wiry charcoal beard.

"To you, maybe," Davina said, placing her hand in Thevina's. Thevina could tell her sister hoped to be entranced by the story of their miraculous birth. It was a tale her uncle loved to tell, especially on a day as auspicious as this one.

"I'll accompany you up to the Great Hall," Vram said, surprising the twins and bringing Thevina back to the present.

"We can fend for ourselves, no need for a guard," Thevina said. "And honestly, all we're doing is standing still, seeing a bunch of adolescent Elves present themselves to their High Lord, and coming forward and saying our names. As though any of them can tell us apart. And their finest linguists can't seem to make Khudzul fit in their mouths."

"I don't think it's Thingol," Davina countered. "It's somebody else. A couple of special Elves, one from the Elvish school Kidrak told us about, ages ago. And that one who's down here way more than any of the others. Oldhin."

"As I said," Vram repeated, after taking another mouthful from his tankard, "I'll accompany you up out of the caves and to the Great Hall. And so you fully appreciate the magnitude of this event, you should know that both the king and queen will preside. I realize this is both exciting but may also seem like a waste of time."

"Remind me again why exactly it is that we need to put on our best leathers and introduce ourselves?" Thevina asked, pushing Davina's plate out of her reach so she'd stop tapping her ringed knuckles on it. "Honestly, you know full well anybody here on the Zeleg, our Work, could go to this event and say they were Davina and me. Elves seem incapable of telling us apart, unless the least subtle of self-expressive qualities is on display."

Davina made a low noise in her throat and jabbed into Thevina's ribs.

"Â!!" Thevina exclaimed. "What's that for?"

"Hypocrisy. Just the other day there was a whole contingent of Elves and you swore up and down they were identical. Even the shorter ones."

"They're..." Thevina paused, stole a glance at her uncle, then returned to her sister's gaze, "Unnatural."

Davina let out a long sigh. "You're one to talk about unnatural, you who loves drama. 'A dwarf is at his highest and best when his fingers are nimble,'" she opined. "No dwarf tries to garden among stone."

This was an old battle. Both sisters had keen interests independent of each other, providing endless fodder for goading.

"Even when I'm holding a Dwarfling at my chest, you'll say I'm not fully Dwarf," Thevina said despite herself. 

"You two. Stop it. Now," Vram said, his chair scraping on the rock as he scooted backwards. "Your kin Broadbeams have been working here happily over a decade now. Dwarves are still dwarves, Elves are Elves. This project is so vast and monumental it may be completed after you enter Mahal's halls. Our working conditions are comfortable, trade is easy, ale flows in the river."

"Does it really? Somewhere hidden?" Thevina whispered.

"No. It's only a saying," Davina answered. "Stop being so gullible."

"I have suggestions for the Elves. About the Zeleg."

Two pairs of brown eyes under bushy eyebrows turned to look at her.

"You what?" Davina asked, gawping.

"I have suggestions," Thevina repeated. "I've practically grown up here. This will be their home, but it's mine now. I'd like to present my illustrations at the introduction ceremony."

Vram's brow furrowed. "We're building what their Lord Thingol commissioned. Those designs were drawn up and approved well before you were even a gem in your mother's eye."

"I understand that," Thevina said, twisting a beard curl around her left pointer finger. "But for all of their plans and vision, most of them don't even visit our works. You see how much they revere the night sky and the stars, yet they've left most of the upper ceilings as raw stone." 

"That's because they won't be living in it all the time," Davina said. "They'll go in and out and probably conjure some Elvish light source." 

"They aren't magic," Thevina insisted.

"You called them unnatural."

"Enough, girls, enough!" Vram's voice carried over the squabble. "Go to your room, put on the leathers and armor Difrak made for you, and don't be late. I'll meet you at the third bench from the cave mouth at the third bell chime."

"And my suggestions?" Thevina asked, having already decided to bind them up and put them in her tool bag.

"I'll put in a word with Thrama. It's not that I don't think you probably have a unique perspective. But we were given quite specific design plans. We're here to serve a specific role, and that is to use our Mahal-given gifts to create this first joint masterpiece built into a mountain. I understand that this may all seem strange and the greater picture of it all may be beyond you, but not for long," he said as the young dwarves both fixed him with an indignant stare.

"We're practically of age," Davina said, standing up from the table and belching.

"Manners!" Thevina shoved her twin.

"You've only just been at your initial apprenticeships for three years. You're still youths, but believe me, I understand your frustration."

"How can you?" Thevina said. "Nobody told you what to do."

"That is absolutely not the case," Vram said, his usual composure leaving him for a moment. "Do you really think I wanted to leave my kin and spend my life working in a space that will never ring out my name? No! But when your mother wrote and asked my brother if I would be your guardian, of course I said yes. A Longbeard always looks out for his own."

Thevina stood and looked at him, seeing him almost as though for the first time, as someone who'd been through his own disappointments, struggles and sacrifices.

"You've always told us you felt privileged to be asked to be our guardian and work at the fortress," she said slowly. "Now it sounds as though you were forced."

The distant tendrils of dread that usually only inhabited Thevain's dreams began to take purchase in her mind, and a shudder coursed through her.

"I don't express myself the way I meant to," Vram said, softening his posture and pulling the two Dwarves into his arms. "No-one forces a Dwarf to do anything," he said, kissing them both on the head. "There's a chink in my axe for you two that grows deeper with time. Everyone knows I wouldn't trade being here for any life I would have had in the Blue Mountains."

"The Elves don't say why they want such a fortress," Thevina said. "It seems an odd commission when they appear so content to live among the woods."

"You're free to ask," Davina said, escaping her uncle's embrace and giving Thevina a knowing look. "Just don't expect a straight answer."

~ * ~ * ~

With more than a few moments to spare, Thevina stood and Davina paced at the designated bench, still a good five minutes' walk to the entrance of the fortress in progress. Thevina ran her fingers along the carved petals of Elanor flowers gracing a stony plant wrapping itself along the bench leg, noting how rustic it looked compared to the flora she'd been asked to work on.

"Do you think this front area will need to be re-done?" she asked Davina.

Davina stopped in her tracks, confusion in her expression. "What do you mean? Re-do this? What for?"

"It doesn't look as polished, as real as what we're accomplishing now. And just think how exquisite the Work will be once those final royal chambers are crafted into being. Provided we stay on schedule, you and I will have been on those rooms for a good thirty years or more."

"We're ahead of schedule now."

Thevina looked at her twin in disbelief. "No. How can— how do you know this?"

"Unlike you, I linger after meals to listen to what the Master Rockwrights say amongst themselves. You could learn far more there than in the recipe books you read."

"They aren't recipes, and you know better. You can't yank my beard that easily."

Disdain etched Davin's young face. "No, but it doesn't take much. If you asked for my opinion—"

"Which I most certainly didn't," Thevina mumbled to herself.

"— you could stand to be reading more about your own history."

"That's the past," Thevina said, her voice rising even as she heard the sound of boots on the path behind them. "Look around you! This is the greatest masterwork our people have ever made. Not even our grand caverns have this level of detail. We've been commissioned to make this work. Who cares about what's going on anywhere else on this earth but what we're doing here, honestly!"

"That's the spirit!" Thwalfur's voice boomed in the cavernous space, and both twins turned to face the small entourage.

"Thwalfur!" Davina ran to their grandmother, hugging her around her stout waist. "I thought you were staying with Mîmî, and sending more of Dunnfur's folk here."

"Part of that is incorrect, obviously."

Her voice, while warm, harbored the rasp of all elderly Khazad and hearing it caused Thevina's heart to ache.

"Mîmî swims in gold and silver and does nothing of use to anyone, I regret to say," Thwalfur continued, complete with a head shake.

"You three shall gossip to your hearts' content after the ceremony," Vram said in Khudzul before effortlessly switching to Sindarin as an expected contingent came their way from a section of the Work informally known as the starshower gardens. 

Thevina continued to speak quietly with her family's matriarch as the group neared the vast entrance to the fortress, her eyes adjusting to the increasing amount of natural light provided by Two Trees somewhere in another part of the earth, or so she understood it. It was much colder than she'd expected. As she glanced over at the dozen or so Elven-folk walking behind them, she noticed they wore heavier cloaks than usual, reaching to the ground and with hoods over their heads. She deduced that her kind must be less affected by temperature, but she gave a silent phrase of thanks for her gloves and warm jerkin underneath her leathers and short cape. Soon they were in the cultivated, seemingly endless forest of Lord Thingol and Melian. Thevina didn't feel at all unwelcome amid the trees, cottages, gardens and grassy paths, but in no way did it feel home-like. The sky was leaden grey, a color that seemed to portend some sort of weather condition, but the young dwarf was at a loss. Her kind preferred to spend much of life in the shelter and mostly unchanging environment of vast caves and created, under-mountain spaces. She knew herself well enough to realize that any kind of foretelling about sky-weather would be a joke. It wasn't in her blood.

Her calves were just beginning to ache when the tall bannered entrance to the Elven-lord's stronghold came into view. At the same time, she became aware of crystalline flakes of what she assumed to be some kind of Elf-dust falling on them. While Elves weren't magical in any sense that she understood, they yet managed to control a great many natural aspects that seemed to have their source from beyond her comprehension of how the natural world worked. Per the instructions Vram had given her, Thevina dropped back so that she and Davina walked up the vast stairs side by side, then made their way to the western side where a group of perhaps two dozen young Elves stood, their own instructions not to gawk at the Dwarves now in their midst having flown out the window.

"I've heard they hatch out of eggs, like birds," Thevina heard one Elf say quietly to his companion.

She glanced at Davina to gauge if she'd heard that ridiculous statement as well, and her twin's eye roll confirmed she had.

“ _And Elves think they're so enlightened_ ,” Davina said under her breath in the unique language she and Thevina shared, a secretive tongue they'd developed since first learning to speak.

“ _Hatched from an egg?_ ” Thevina whispered, choking on a suppressed laugh that drew far more sets of eyes her way than she'd anticipated. She was saved further scrutiny when the Lord and Lady of Doriath descended from a dais and stood in front of the assembly.

"Welcome, all who stand in these hallowed halls," Thingol said, opening his arms in a gesture of magnanimity. "To those Elves here who mark their coming of age, set to embark on a lifetime's journey of learning and service, a special greeting from the Queen."

Despite herself, Thevina realized she was staring, her mouth agape, and she pressed her lips together to prevent embarrassment. She knew of only two sentient races in the world, her people and the Elves, yet this creature seemed to be wrought of moonshine itself.

"Childhood is but a blink of an eye," Melian said, her voice melodious and carrying straight to Thevina's heart in a way that caused her eyes to water. "Here you stand, on the threshold of what is hope to be unnumbered years. It is not your birthright to squander them. Set your sights on knowledge, art, craft and song." Her opaline eyes alighted on the Dwarvish company, and her smile widened.

"Dear Naugrim, revered children of Aulë! Thank you for presenting two of your own youth to take part in the ceremony. Please, come forth."

Thevina stole a glance at Davina and before, as a matched pair, they walked side by side to stand near the two rulers. 

"We of Doriath give you great thanks for sharing your skills of mining, of the foresight of the rockwright, the cunning of the engineer, and the creator of beauty in metalwork and lapidary," Thingol said, producing two heavy velvet purses. "Please, open them," he said, placing each bag into the unsuspecting twins' now-outstretched hands. "You have chosen to spend much of your lives, perhaps the majority, here in our lands. I hope, in addition to all you shall learn while crafting this great work, these gifts from the sea, far off to the west, will serve as symbols of our gratitude to you and your kin for generations to come. But first, as this is a time to stand and speak for yourself, please introduce yourselves to myself and my queen."

Davina cleared her throat and then said, "Davina Longbeard, of the Blue Mountains, here to serve my days until this work is complete or Mahal shall call me home."

Thevina echoed the words, substituting her own name, or at least the version of her name that could be understood in the Elves' language.

"Young faithful Gonnhirrim, please. Cast your eyes upon your gifts," Melian said, her voice sweet as birdsong.

Thevina didn't need to be asked a second time. With her left hand she pulled out a pearl the size of a jay's egg and she stared at it, then back up at the king and queen.

"It's beautiful," she said at last. "Even without such a extraordinary gift, I would have spent a lifetime here, honing my craft and the legacy of my axe and chisel, without any particular thanks other than your safekeeping."

"And rich food!" Davina added, causing a near-silent ruckus of swishing robes and general agitation from the young Elves.

Deciding it was now or never, Thevina palmed the sea-tear, its iridescent colors shimmering on its surface, and then lifted her face to the Elvish leaders.

"I drafted a design," she said, presenting a rolled up piece of parchment in Thingol's direction. "It uses one of the fortress's watercourses to power benches that would go from the low levels to the highest and furthest rooms in the Work. They will be a long walk, with a great many stairs, tiring perhaps even for Elven-folk," she continued on, waiting until her inspired design was in the King's hand to pause and take a deep breath. "I know that I'm young and have only started on my path as a rockwright and sculptor, but this Work is my life. I may not live long enough to see its completion, but I feel honored to be amongst my kin and your people as it is hewn from the rock."

She hadn't meant to extemporize in that moment, but overwhelmed by the king and queen's generosity, it was as though her tongue and words were no longer under her control. Thankfully she was rescued from additional potential chagrin by her sister.

"Thank you very much for these splendid gifts," Davina said, tugging at Thevina none too carefully so that they bowed in tandem, then returned to their Dwarvish continent. 

The rest of the ceremony seemed interminably long, but eventually did conclude. After a healthy sampling of various Elven treats at a vast banquet table, Thevina and her extended family began the walk back to their home in the Work.

"Look! More Elf-dust!" Thevina exclaimed, delightedly kicking at the light cover of white on the ground.

"Elf-dust?" Thwalfur echoed, her brows furrowed. "You mean snow, granddaughter. Have you somehow never seen it before?"

"They were quite sheltered, as you may remember," Vram said, not unkindly.

"Precisely why they came here with you!" The eldress jabbed a gloved finger toward Vram's chest.

"The winters have been busy," Vram said weakly.

"Why must I do everything?" Thwalfur asked, shaking her head and stomping a few paces in displeasure. "Davina, Thevina, this is snow. Much like frozen rain, but prettier to look at. And it has nothing to do with these Elves you work for."

They tromped on through the quiet, still air of the forest, when all of a sudden a doe and two fawns darted ahead of them through a clearing, setting a small flock of finches to flight and high-pitched chirps and calls. Thevina took a deep breath, willing to memory the marvelous sight of snow falling on beeches and pines, of her grandmother's steady low voice carrying news of the Blue Mountains, the sensuous velvet against her palm. The Elves hadn't made the day magical, yet it felt a singularly important day all the same.

2\. Rituals

Still groggy after a much-needed afternoon nap, Thevina stopped and stared for a moment in front of her workshop door. To it a piece of parchment was affixed with a nail.

"Huh," she said to herself, wrenching out the nail and evaluating whose rune-script had written her name.

 _Come to the dining hall,_ it stated. _Thwalfur approaches her time to rejoin Mahal._

For a second, Thevina stopped breathing, but then came to her senses. Tears filled her eyes and she let them flow. This wasn't unexpected, but it still caused her heart to ache. She'd so enjoyed the 20-odd years her grandmother had spent at the Zeleg, gifting her unique skill set to the great Work in Doriath. Her ability to see shapes and structures and sketch them out was second to none. Thevina had even stopped her initial apprenticeship as a generalized rockwright (with special dispensation, of course, as that request had been most extraordinary) to spend 14 years at her grandmother's side, drinking in all she could learn until Thwalfur's fingers began to curl and become gnarled. It was a sure sign that the discomforts of oldest age would soon be upon her, and so she'd returned to Belegost some four or so years ago. In truth, that the note wasn't telling her of Thwalfur's death was a surprise. She re-rolled the parchment and jogged up and down the tracks to reach the large dining hall, greeting groups of Dwarves and a few Elves as she hurried along. At the far end of the vast table her twin sat, a mug of ale in front of her.

"Where have you been?" Davina asked, tilting back her chair and taking a mouthful of her drink. "Taking a nap?"

"As a matter of fact, I was," Thevina said crossly, going straight past her sister to go into the kitchen to pour her own large mug of winter ale. "Who sent the message?" she asked once she sat down.

"Mîmî."

Thevina choked on her drink. "What?!"

"You heard right. And she wants us to come back now for the impending funeral."

Thevina's brows furrowed, visage darkening. "Hurry up and wait? That's macabre."

"It isn't. It's respectful. Plus our mother has decided it's time for us to do our Dwarvishly duty and take husbands, bear Dwarflings, the whole seam of gold."

Thevina gave Davina a long look, then started to laugh.

"Oh! You almost had me there!" she said, belly shaking with mirth. "This is what happens when I don't see you for three or four days at a time. I forget, somehow, how black your humor is."

She took a couple of long swallows, waiting for Davina to exclaim something triumphant about getting one over on her, but her face was strangely serious.

"You don't mean—" Thevina started.

"Oh, I do. Mîmî's message from on high brooks no dissent. We have to go. Now."

"But," Thevina said, feeling a flush go up her neck, anger and a swarm of other untidy emotions battling for supremacy, "I'm supposed to get my guild tattoo at the next feast!"

Davis raised one bushy eyebrow. "Well, I'd suggest you either get it now, or you wait until we return."

"That could be years!" A fleck of ale foam hit the table with a soft splat. "I won't stand for it!"

It was just like looking into a mirror, yet none of the emotion Thevina felt was expressed on Davina's face.

"Then don't. But I'd think long and hard about how Thwalfur will feel if only I return, not both of us, to send her off to the Great Caves. She named us, after all."

The hot burn of anger turned to an unpleasant taste of sour guilt in Thevina's mouth. "I know she did. And I know you're right. I've just been so looking forward to gaining my marks." She took a long, deep swallow of ale.

"Well, ask your guild to make an exception. Or ask them to write up a letter of recommendation to take to the guild at home."

"Doesn't feel like home at all," Thevina said, twisting a curl of hair behind her ear. "This is home."

"Our first return trip to Belegost, then. You're right. This is where we've grown up. But we'd only be gone for a couple of years at a time, and then we can come back having done all that's asked of us."

An icy thought came to Thevina, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them. "I don't think I want to have a child," she said.

"I'm pretty sure I don't, either," Davina said, lowering her feet to the floor and scooting her chair closer. "But we can work with a matchmaker, do what needs to be done and then leave the Dwarflings to the care of others. No-one will think less of us for marrying and letting our husbands' families raise them. They'll be able to mine that ore of having such unique mothers for generations to come."

"If you say so."

Thevina couldn't really fault her sister's logic, it was that the suddenness of it all made her feel uncomfortable and strange in her own skin.

"We have to go." Davina's voice was insistent, the first sliding rocks of an avalanche.

Thevina took a deep breath, reached out her hand and held her twin's hand in hers.

"I know we do." 

~ * ~ * ~

Belegost, spring

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! My beard's been bristling. I knew you two couldn't have been far off."

Mîmî of Clan Riverrock, of the Chrysoprase Chapter of Coppersmiths, of the illustrious Longbeards of the Dwarves of Belegost, sat in her chair, looking up at her two anomalies of progeny.

"Mîmî," the twins said in unison.

"Help an old lady up and give us a hug."

Davina and Thevina did as demanded, helping their decidedly not old mother out of her chair. Girth was her only impediment, but she'd skillfully used it to her advantage for decades.

"You look— healthy," Davina said after they'd all embraced and each had a tall mug of beer.

"I'm fat. No need to honeycoat. And yes, I'm fit as a fiddle. I'll take you to the Guild Hall and I'll show you some of the works my apprentices have crafted."

"I'd like that," Thevina said, genuinely interested in what her kindred Dwarves were making as their skills and talents improved with each generation.

"Let's go do that. I regret that your travels took as long as they did. Thwalfur's home-taking was an event not to be missed."

"We got here as soon as we could," Davina said, a jab in her voice. "Don't forget it was you who sent us away from Belegost in the first place."

"I couldn't keep you here, not with a clean conscience," their mother said coolly. "Come. Let's go to the Guild Hall. The steward will take your belongings to your former rooms."

As the day went on, Thevina discovered old memories surfacing, coaxed into remembrance with each rediscovered sound, scent and familiar face. It was a true homecoming, yet as she sat down, hours later, to a celebratory dinner, she realized that she felt like a visitor. Belegost wasn't her home anymore. She looked over at Davina, who seemed to be having a splendid time, and wondered how much of that was show. She'd have to ask later, once they were both in the room of their childhood, housed with appropriate sized beds.

A rousing toast pulled her from her reverie.

"To Durin's line!" someone shouted.

"To Durin's line!" echoed down the table and then throughout the cavernous hall.

"To Davina and Thevina, back from the land of the Elves."

"To their lines!" a deep voice carried above the din of tankards hitting one another and a round of ebullient belches. "May their legacy live on for generations!"

Thevina felt queasy, bile rising in her throat, but she kept her cup high, toasting those around her.

 _No Dwarves from my line,_ she said ferociously to herself. _Let Davina do it._

Those words were a months'-old memory when she found herself sitting once again at the oaken table, reading through her latest suitor's betrothal request scroll. Familiar promises of keeping the home clean, sharing treasured (and otherwise held secret in the family line) metal patterning and techniques, oiling and braiding her hair and beard, the usual.

_And if your hands ache at the end of a long day, I vow to rub lavender oil in them._

Thevina choked on her ale. 

"Something good? Or atrocious?" Davina asked before relighting her pipe and taking a puff.

"Confusing."

A raised auburn eyebrow invited Thevina to continue.

"Not a lot of flowers grown here."

"No. Not much use for them."

"Exactly." Thevina twisted her right knuckle through the curls at her jaw, taking time purposefully to smell the pine oil as it released its warm and woodsy scent. She curled her upper lip, bringing the aroma right to her nostrils, took a deep breath, then released a long, satisfied sigh.

"What is in that ale?" Davina asked. "You seem…" her voice trailed off and she jabbed at the air toward her twin. "You're on those mushrooms again!"

Irritation sanded across Thevina's wellbeing. "I am not. And even if I was, there is absolutely no harm in it."

"What if we were suddenly called into battle?"

"What about everybody who would be five tankards to the barrel?" Thevina countered, then blanched as the underlying seriousness of the question surfaced. "Who would we be fighting against? We don't have any enemies," she said, enunciating each syllable. 

She thought back to her former world, spending all her days in the company of Elves and Dwarves alike. She'd not once felt even a shadow of acrimony toward their hosts. What was Davina really saying?

"The dragon, of course! And all his kin."

Thevina belched. "Right, right." She was relieved, and knowing that, she felt uncomfortable in her own skin in a way that felt unpleasant. She knew that she'd be heading out into the woods when she could next get away, and find more of the compelling capped edibles that helped make this time trapped in Belegost more bearable.

"You were talking about flowers. Whose scroll is that, anyway?" Davina asked, hooking her thumb in a gesture to the small scroll in front of Thevina. 

Thevina stared blankly at her, her mind still on dragons and an uncomfortable churning that appeared in her gut when she thought about them. 

"Whose?" Davina asked again.

"I, well, I don't feel well," Thevina at last declared after hesitantly clambering through the first words. "I'm going to go make some tea."

Davina gave her a hard look, then picked up her pipe to light it again.

"Suit yourself," Davina said. "Though it doesn't bode well that your constitution is so used to that Elvish and Dwarf mishmash that you get a stomach ache after a few weeks of real Dwarvish food."

"I didn't say I had a stomach ache," Thevina insisted. She pushed back from the table with unnecessary force, and then slammed back the rest of her ale. "Though that is exactly what's happening. I don't want to add headache as well."

"Aren't you the princess?" Davina sneered.

"And why are you being so cruel? What's gotten into you?" Thevina snapped.

Davina's stormy expression morphed to one of concern. "Oh! You really don't feel comfortable! I'm so sorry. I thought you were just being difficult."

The fist around Thevina's heart loosed its grip.

"I know I can be challenging," Thevina admitted. "I just want to be left alone to be creative, or to collaborate. I don't think I have it in me to be any sort of parent."

As the words manifested into being, a tiny sliver of a hole in the interwoven destiny of her life with her identical twin also manifested into being. Thevina felt it as a short poke at her heart.

"I'm going to go make that tea. And go to the memorial garden," Thevina said.

Davina nodded brusquely, though giving Thevina a loving look as she pulled on her pipe.

"It is wise to seek the ancestors. Please give them my gratitude as well."

"I will, of course."

Thevina lay her hand briefly on Davina's shoulder as she left the room, sending an imaginary spark of love and support to her sister.

"Don't wait up."

About 45 minutes or so later, Thevina was outside of the main lodging area, a distance from the mountain itself. This was the memorial garden, the place where her family and all of her lineage were buried. The tawny-capped mushrooms that she had found interspersed with her ancestors provided an overly-real, inspired experience of her own world, creativity in regards to her metalwork and sculpting that seemed otherworldly. She sometimes ate them raw, or steeped them in hot water as a kind of tea. Thevina had only ever considered them as a gift from her lineage of the creative works they hadn't managed to craft within their respective lifetimes, and so now it was her turn to try to make these marvelous designs. She seemed to have a much closer relationship with her grandparents and few other ancestors they'd had, being a long-lived race not prone to illness and no dragons yet appearing in the sky.

Thevina felt a chill wash all over her arms and hands, her skin prickling with gooseflesh.

"It's just me," Thevina called aloud into the warm night. "All I bring is good news. We are still at peace. And I'm here to be with you and to receive your visions with reverence."

She'd eaten a few dried mushrooms at her own room before filling up a wineskin and bringing another bag to collect more of her 'wisdom-givers,' as she called them in her own mind. Her announcement made, Thevina lay down on her back on the soft ground, seeing the occasional distinctive yellow-green light of a firefly blinking in and out of existence. A wind danced in the limbs of the tall trees at the edge of the clearing, the stirring needles a soothing, sussurative sound that let her relax even further into her experience. She was safe on the earth, safely held up by the bodies of her kin, their creative imagery dancing and metamorphosing in her mind's eye. As she watched the cornucopia of shapes and patterns, of colors that existed far beyond those she'd seen in the natural world, she felt an awareness in the innermost pith of her being, a knowing that sang in her blood.

She was called solely to be in the Elvish caves. That was to be her life's gift to this time she spent on this native earth. That was why she didn't feel well, it was why none of the prospective suitors wrote what she needed to read. Her heart was already claimed by the project with her other creative brethren. Without them, the Second-born, she felt incomplete. She had all the clarity she could ever have asked for. Thevina opened her eyes and gazed deeply into the starry expanse above her, certain that the stars were dancing an intricately patterned message made solely for her.

"Thank you, Mahal," she murmured, her heart swelling with pride and a deep peace. "I won't let you down."

~ * ~ * ~

"What do you mean, you're going home? You are home!" Mîmî thundered as Thevina tried not to grimace.

"I have a different calling. Not all women marry."

Mîmî's heavy brows took command of her mid-forehead. "You're going to the Guildresses? Oh! That's a cause for celebration! Why didn't you just say? Steward, some zhîkomir! Thevina's—"

"I'm returning to the Zeleg, mother. Not the Guildresses. I respect them highly, but that's not where I belong."

Incomprehension snatched away the joy on the matriarch's face.

"Not the Guildresses? But— your sister said you're ahead of schedule, even. Why rush back? You've barely looked at any of the betrothal scrolls. Those are the most desperate families, anyway. I'll talk with the matchmaker. You didn't give me a lot of preferences to work with."

Thevina felt as though she was once again a Dwarfling, not yet empowered with the ability to act with autonomy. She felt backed into a corner, her fists starting to clench even as she tried to keep her voice even.

"I'm not stupid, so I'm not leaving right this minute. It's at least another two months until spring, and I'll look at Davina's scrolls with her. She seems just curious enough to raise a family, so count your gold and be glad at least one of us is so inclined."

"I'll do that, I'll just do that," her mother said to her hands, but then she gave Thevina a pleading look that shattered her heart into a thousand shards. "We are the first born on this earth," she said, her voice quaking with emotion that caught Thevina even more by surprise. "Are we also to be the first to be seen no more? We are blessed with easy birthing if we make such a choice. Don't let that fear sway you."

"I just… I can't!" Thevina said, helplessly pumping her fists as the winds of guilt and disappointment battered her own heart. "It feels… unnatural to me," she said at last, horrified when an image of an Elvish engineer she'd worked with for the last nine or so years came to mind. The memory included several chalices of a potent Elvish fermented spirit of some kind and a hedonistic soak in a hot springs pool an Elvish priest or some equivalent had added to the original design. Nothing had happened, of course. Nothing could happen. That would of course be… "Unnatural," she found herself saying. "I am…"

"A Longbeard. And my daughter. The light of Mahal's gifts for us shines through you so clearly. Of course you must return until the Work is done. After that, then your heart will be free to return for good. Now isn't the time to settle down."

Thevina's jaw ached. She hadn't noticed her teeth bearing down until her breath left her with a sigh. She felt exhausted. Her mother understood. Her twin, not at all. Better at least one of the two most important women in her life seemed to comprehend why Thevina needed to get back to the Zeleg. Her journals were bursting with new sketches, a torrent of creativity bestowed on her by her ancestors through the dun-capped mushrooms which grew over them.

"Thank you for saying so, mother."

Thevina shuffled the few steps over and enfolded her mother in an embrace. The matronly scent of spruce oil and tobacco caused Thevina's eyes to tear up, and she sniffed.

"You always were the more sensitive," Mîmî said, her wide fingers patting Thevina mid-spine. "Just be sure you carve your sister's name into the Work somewhere."

Thevina pulled back, giving her mother a hard look.

"Why would I do that? Since she's coming back?" She paused, feeling the diaphanous seam between herself and her twin gap a bit more. It made her feel dizzy, and sick to her stomach. "Oh. She's not."

"There, there," her mother clucked. "Oh good. Zhîkomir for you to steady yourself."

"Yes, please." Thevina gingerly took a seat, accepted the drink, and tossed it back in one swallow. A part of her had been haunted by the specter of this separation, but the time went by and that point continued not to come. Until the day it did.

"If you have a daughter, name her for me," she said, toasting Davina with an empty glass.

3\. Reunions

Thevina often returned to the memory garden over the next few weeks, reveling in the peace and sanctuary she found there. A brown hare became a frequent companion in the evenings of early summer, befriending her to the level that Thevina not only began bringing it food, and petting it, but she gave the improbably soft creature a name.

"Flopsy, what are you going to do when I go back to my real home?" she asked the hare, its nose twitching as it nibbled on a carrot. "I know there are foxes around. If you get any bigger you won't be able to outrun them or hide."

She took a couple of swallows of some honey mead made only this time of year, and languidly stroked the hare's ears. "I'm not doing you any favors treating you like a pet."

Seemingly out of nowhere, the idea of taking this adorable and sweet-natured animal with her to the Zeleg hit her. Once it appeared, she found herself helpless to do anything but make that a reality. Only a very few Dwarves she knew had animal companions, but the Elves loved animals. As work progressed on the massive cave complex, more spaces began housing its intended inhabitants and a few had pets. Birds were a particular favorite, and there were several fish ponds located throughout the structure. She knew there were guard hounds and other dogs who had seemed more communal than household-owned. 

The Elves were determined not only to build forests out of the rock, but irrigated whole seeded sections where underground meadows and shrubbed groves had been planted after first hauling in unfathomable amounts of earth. The scale of this project, rather than becoming more and more manageable as her years went on, became more and more complex. It involved genius levels of engineering, stonemasonry, plumbing and placement of light sources whose power Thevina didn't understand. They seemed somehow to be tiny offspring orbs of the light of the Two Trees which grew bright and dim, creating the cycles of day and night and slow seasonal change she experienced in her world.

"I could build you— no. I could ask Rumil to build you a home near a small stream, with a soft nest you can sleep in. Then you'll be safe from foxes, and I can continue to enjoy your company."

She smiled at herself and the hare, which was contentedly munching on all of the treats Thevina had brought. "The trip there won't be so bad. I'll make a cart for taking a few things back for my workshop, and you can ride on top. How does that sound?"

Flopsy turned and looked at her, wrinkling its nose a few times, and bowed her head nearer to Thevina's hand.

"Good. I'm not traveling alone, but I'll be especially pleased to have your company as well. I can keep one of the best parts of Belegost with me."

Flopsy turned out not only to be a hardy travel companion, but also highly adaptable as she (it turned out) settled into her new home. Only a few days after Thevina's return with the half-dozen goldsmiths, she heard a loud knocking on her door.

"You're wanted at the banquet!" Zîka's voice sounded in the corridor.

"I barely worked on the Helluin rotunda!" Thevina called back. "And I'm unpacking."

"You worked on it long enough, and no you're not," Zîka challenged. "Plus they're serving your favorite."

Intrigued, Thevina strode to the door and opened it. Zîka's dark eyes twinkled, a belt buckle hewn of peacock ore proclaiming her particular guild of metallurgy.

"You're returned at an auspicious time," Zîka confided as Thevina closed her door and joined the Dwarf down the corridor. "There's been more gifts to these Elves from the oceans, including oysters."

Thevina's stomach rumbled, and she played with one of her beard plaits.

"I've not had those delights since those earliest years!" she marveled. "If they don't have regular trade, there must be some reason. Were I Thingol, I'd feast on them every night!"

It was a bit of a walk to get all the way to the Helluin rotunda, and the festivities were in full swing when the pair of them arrived. Thevina helped herself to a flagon of Dwarvish ale as well as a chalice of Elvish wine, and then stood over by one of the massive carved pillars near some exquisite mosaic tilework showing the Elvish creation story of the Two Trees and the first constellations. The tables groaned under the weight of a bountiful feast that Thevina had forgotten was happening, as she really hadn't been working in this part of the Zeleg for several years. Though keenly interested in savoring oysters again, she didn't want to appear rude by going straight for them. They were a delicacy among the Elves of this area, and besides, the best part of any Elvish-hosted activity was the highly intoxicating beverages the Elves brought.

 _I don't know how they can put away so much and still remain standing, much less burst into song,_ she thought, watching as a trio of engineers she knew better than some approached a few of her kinsmen. One of the engineers, she realized with a start, was Ellidor. It had been several years since they'd worked together on a special royal balcony project, and Thevina found herself captivated by the practical, almost Dwarvish nature he possessed. He turned and scanned the room before finding her, and then his gaze locked. Inwardly, she flushed hot and cold, her heart starting to race at her body's unpredicted behavior at being the focus on his attentions.

You are being ridiculous, she told herself, gulping down ale as Ellidor smiled widely and walked her way. _He's a superb engineer. Brilliant, even. Nothing more._

"Welcome back, master rockwright!" Ellidor said, the transparent warmth and welcome in his voice somehow making Thevina feel even worse.

"Engineer Ellidor! It is true. I still live, and I'm back where I belong, here at the Work," she said, hoping her bravado was convincing enough to a non-Dwarf. "Congratulations to your team. This feature is particularly moving and splendid." She held out the chalice to toast him.

"I played only a consultancy role," he demurred. "You know me— I prefer the less decorative, but infinitely more nuanced, complex parts of our to-be home. But I will of course toast to our combined efforts."

Relieved, Thevina clinked her cup to his and finished it off. When a passing Elf offered a refill, Thevina nodded gratefully.

"So your sister didn't return with you?" Ellidor said as he gestured toward the table teeming with exotic sea fare.

"No, she did not. She wrote to King Thingol once she'd decided to enter a betrothal contract. I believe such terms for entering a marriage and leaving this project are included for all of our kin."

"I suppose that would be a condition one would want before agreeing to work so far from home."

Thevina helped herself to an assortment of items she assumed were edible and possibly delicious, shelving her chalice on a return tray she found.

"If it's relevant, yes," she agreed. She looked around for a place to sit off away from the main throng, hoping to eat and make her excuses as quickly as she could.

"But not relevant for you, you mean?"

This was becoming far too personal a conversation to be having, Thevina realized. It was fine to talk about family and family life generally, but not in specifics like this. And most certainly not about her own feelings, which were in inconvenient turmoil.

"I believe my path to be different from Davina's, yes," she said after the pause had become prolonged. "I prefer to focus on my work at this time."

Putting on what she hoped was her most apologetic expression, Thevina said, "The trip back in the heat has taken more out of me than I imagined. I believe I'll take this meal back to my rooms and eat alone. Thank you for your generous welcome. I hope to work with you soon on another compelling task in the near future."

Ellidor's expression of disappointment caught Thevina by surprise, but she'd built up her exit and now needed to take it.

"Yes. It is quite a distance on foot. But your presence will be missed, Rockwright Thevina. I, too, hope to collaborate again soon. I look forward to that opportunity."

"Thank you, Chief Engineer Ellidor. Enjoy the party."

Later in the night, once in the landscape of her dreams, a Dwarf version of Ellidor showed her a project scroll that unrolled and unrolled and unrolled with no end in sight.

"This will take lifetimes!" she exclaimed, trying to understand all of the symbols and the topography of the massive cave works. 

"It will," Dwarf-Ellidor agreed. "We won't be alive to work on it."

Flopsy hopped in and Thevina rubbed her velvety ears. "Why can't everything stay like this, forever?" her dream-self asked.

The hare had become Ellidor, his long dark hair running through her fingers as she combed it. The sadness in his eyes broke her heart.

"Dragons."

~ * ~ * ~

The years went on, and the end of the Work began to come into view. While most of the Dwarves began creating their own unique project outlines and progress notes to be copied by any junior apprentices available for that task, Thevina found herself being drawn into more and more meetings to be a voice for Dwarf-kind and how they should be appropriately compensated and committed to Elvish lore. The compensatory part she was keenly interested in. After years at an evolving negotiating table, she'd secured financial legacies for all Dwarves who'd been at the Zeleg. The "wages" and wealth bestowed on all from the Mountains was generous beyond measure, and the Elves seemed to hold her people in high esteem. Most of the Dwarves planned to return home as soon as dusk fell on that final workday, but Thevina was of more than two minds about her future.

"It's still well over ten years from now," Ellidor pointed out to Thevina one evening after a choral concert. "Is it in your people's nature to focus on one time period in the future like that?"

"They are looking forward to returning home," Thevina replied, helping herself to a chalice of wine offered by one of the omnipresent royal staff. "Surely that isn't a trait unique to us. Otherwise mightn't you and your people be nomads? Then again, it's never been at all clear to me why your great king has commissioned this great work in the first place. Your people already have one home. Why go to all of these lengths to forge a second one? Into the rock, no less?"

Thevina had learned to read her friend's features pretty well by now, and found the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he said, his tone conspiratorial, "I have my theories. Shall we go to our bench?"

"Lead the way."

Over the years, various copses, public rotundas, underground running rivers and artfully carved seats had become places of refuge, places where Thevina could disappear for a couple of hours and speak more openly about her family. She confided to a few of her own relations, of course, and wrote to Davina each 30 day cycle, a habit born out of following an existing Elvish time keeping norm she'd adopted as well. Ellidor was the perfect confidant: kind, understanding, discreet, and he always took her side. “ _Like the brother you never had,_ ” she found herself thinking for the hundredth or so time. 

"I'm still considered young, I know," Thevina groused, settling onto an ingeniously moss-seeded bench that smelled of something she translated from Elvish into honeysuckle. "But nobody builds a huge, elegant warren in a near-direct replica of where you already live for no reason. We, children of Mahal, have no enemies." She paused, took a deep breath and blew it out, then reached for her pipe. It was a gift Davina sent a couple of years back in celebration of their naming-day.

"You," she said, treading carefully, "evidently do. Somewhere."

She busied herself with the pipe, chagrined as she acknowledged her heart was beating far faster than usual. In some ways she'd been anticipating this conversation for years, but it had never felt to be the right time to be quite so candid about this unspoken but blatantly obvious reality. It was so incongruous that at times she'd squashed all of the questions down, but apparently now they'd had enough of being left unanswered. 

Ellidor leaned back into the soft embrace of the organic bench, crossing one leg over the other, ankle atop knee. He appeared uncomfortable, which added to Thevina's growing concern that this was a topic best left as vague as possible.

"Forgive me, Ellidor," she said into his ongoing silence, lighting the pipe and taking a few puffs of deliriously aromatic leaf. "This line of discussion is perhaps not an appropriate one for casual conversion, even among friends as close as we are."  
"It's troubling," the Elf admitted, tapping his fingers on his thigh. "I'll return to it, the topic, that is, but I have a question I've wanted to ask you for some time. Please take my perceived impertinence down to a voluminous lack of knowledge, and I ask only from a place of respect and genuine curiosity."

Thevina was suddenly on high alert. 

"What is it?" she asked. "I don't feel I've kept any secrets from you. Any of my kin will tell you, I'm not exactly shy. And you know me as well as a lot of my companions here on the Work."

Ellidor's light eyes held hers. "Why don't you choose to take a husband and have children of your own? You're so skilled with the youth from Belegost and other mountains when they arrive. It seems to me that our world would be a better place with more Dwarves of your line. You've mentioned your sister has birthed three children, and you two are so alike, as you've said."

A sudden rush of metallic saliva filled Thevina's mouth. She swallowed with difficulty. She wasn't upset, precisely, at being discovered as female, though it hadn't ever seemed to matter. Her gender wasn't relevant to her job and role in any capacity.

"We are very much alike," she agreed. "But I don't ever believe I confided that she and I are identical twins." 

Ellidor pressed his lips together, briefly shrugged his shoulders, and said, "I've known you were a female of your kind for, well, twenty-eight or so years."

Thevina sat, stunned into silence with her teeth clamped on her pipe stem. Seconds later she forced herself to focus and asked a practical question.

"How did you know?"

A shadow of discomfort ghosted over the Elf's features, such a rare expression Thevina wondered if she was perhaps misinterpreting his reaction.

"At some point, over a meal perhaps, yes a special completion banquet. It was around your return. I asked one of your kin, Blondur, if you had a wife. We'd been speaking of families."

"And Blondur said what? My mind is reeling."

Ellidor was definitely mirthful now, yet trying to pretend otherwise.

"'Why would she want one of those?' are his exact words. I shall never forget them. I felt a bit of a fool, and then, more correctly, ignorant of so much about your fascinating people."

"Fascinating," Thevina echoed. 

"Have I accidentally caused you distress? That was not my intention, I assure you," Ellidor said, his expression so distraught Thevina felt a near-immediate need to change the subject to something far more neutral.

"Of course not," she said, quickly removing her pipe so as to take two swigs of wine. "I'd become used to being seen purely as Dwarf-kind, not a particular grouping other than my guild association. The roles we take on in life don't concern our particular—" she closed her eyes for a moment, then marched on, "— procreative abilities. Perhaps that is more common among your people."

Ellidor still appeared chastened, but he confided, "I admit I'd not considered anything other than what my culture has presented as honorable and simply in accordance with the natural order of things until I've spent these many years with you and your talented kind."

"You're being far too earnest for us to keep talking about this. But so we can be sure never to need to bring this up again, yes, I'm female. No, I'm not engaged in any betrothal contract and I have no intention of birthing children of my own. This Work has shaped my life in its entirety and all I would want to leave as a legacy is here."

She found she was brandishing her pipe in her hand, nearly knocking over a jug of wine a thoughtful courtier must have placed nearby. 

The message seemed to perplex Ellidor even more, and he ran his finger along the stem of his glass. A few moments passed before he looked up and over at her, the adoration and gratitude so vibrant Thevina could only bear to hold his gaze for a few seconds. 

"You've chosen to gift your life's legacy and talent here, away from the mountains of your birth, all of these years spent on a work of magnitude you appreciate and yet," he stopped, and shook his head. "And yet," he continued, "at your core, you've questioned the purpose from the start."

"Well, yes," Thevina spluttered. "More than anything, this has been the most magnificent project I could imagine being a part of. Ultimately I don't believe it matters, the purpose."

Ellidor nudged her leg with the heel of his leather-soled shoe. "Ah, but I believe I know you better than that. You do believe it matters. As the project draws to a close, you continue to wonder about its necessity."

"And what if I do?" Thevina said over her shoulder as she haphazardly poured more wine into her goblet.

"I wonder as well," Ellidor confessed. "As you may imagine, not all Elves blithely follow the vague explanatory expressions of this being a sanctuary without sensing a more dire, far less vague threat of something behind it."

The goodwill and ease Thevina had relaxed into froze, and she forced herself to swallow.

"Dragons?" she asked, decades of dream snippets crowding into her already-full imagination. "Your people were warned of them as well?"

Ellidor's mannered brows bunched in confusion. "Dragons? What are you speaking of?"

 _All these years, and I still need a translator,_ Thevina thought wildly to herself. 

"You've heard of such, of course," Thevina said. "Surely. Large, hideous monster with wings? Breathes fire?"

A shadow passed over Ellidor's face.

"No, I'd not known of such. Though I know of what must be its kin, other creatures of dark and malice. I suppose it should be no surprise to discover how diverse such a lineage might be."

A shiver ran down and back up Thevina's spine. She'd not heard of anything else horrible that could be related to dragons. What had happened in the earliest days of this world that such creatures came into being?

"Why is there evil in our world?" she found herself asking. "Nowhere in our understandings of the myths of creation does Mahal explain why such creatures must exist. Unless perhaps dragons were of the world before we were crafted into being. But again, why? Who among the very First Ones would find it pleasing to bring to life a creature of desolation?"

Thevina realized her pipe had gone out while she waxed philosophical and took the necessary steps to remedy the situation. Her companion remained silent as she did so, nursing his own drink.

"You and I have spoken on many topics," he said at last. "I admit this one is particularly challenging in that it has troubled me as well. I've never found the reasons given me to be at all satisfactory. Once again, I find our thinking to be on a similar path. Is this a subject you contemplate often? I am quite sure I've never heard any of your kinsfolk speak of this."

Thevina snorted. "No, you wouldn't. It's not practical. Practicality is far more prized than considering unanswerable questions."

Ellidor regarded her with a smile Thevina found most comforting. "I take it this is why you've kept this esoteric side of yourself hidden, then? You wouldn't want me to think you were being impractical."

Her emotional equilibrium restored, Thevina smiled in return and held out her goblet to gently tap Ellidor's.

"Absolutely not. A thoroughly practical Dwarf I am, through and through."

4\. Departures

"I'm going to roast in this jerkin," Thevina muttered to herself, tugging on it. "Only King Thingol would manage to pick the warmest day so far this year for an outdoor ceremony."

"Careful," her companion said under his breath. "Somebody might hear you and think you're not as robust in all temperatures and climes as is believed."

"Seeing as how I'm leaving this fine fold of Elven-kind tomorrow, I can't honestly say that I care."

Ellidor's response was nearly silent, the choked back guffaw Thevina knew to be there under layers of etiquette disguised as a huff of air. Thevina smiled inside, a bone-deep relaxing into gratitude and another emotion with which she had no wish to parley. Not right now. Instead, right now, as had been decades earlier when she and Davina had stood together on the dais, she was going to be on display and under scrutiny. Now, as then, she didn't have much to do or say, but she felt the weight of hundreds of eyes under hundreds of smooth brows. The last Dwarf of Belegost to stand near the banks of Esgalduin.

 _Perhaps it should feel more momentous,_ she thought. _This has been decades spent together, this project. And yet save for Ellidor, I cannot really call any of Thingol's people close companions. Perhaps that gap is meant to be too wide for such a thing._

"Please approach, Thevina Longbeard of Belegost of the Ered Luin." Thingol's voice carried across the expanse, the commanding quality of tone reminding her for just a moment of her own mother. Sweat pooled undesirably in the curls at her chest, and she forced herself to ignore it.

Thevina strode to her place in front of him and Lady Melian, all childhood remembrances banished to far recesses of her mind. She'd really hoped to avoid any and all ceremonies to do with the conclusion of the Work, but the decision had been made at least two years prior that she was the only representative that would do.

"The king and queen are most insistent that you be there to commemorate this moment in time," a high aide of unknown name had earnestly told her back then. "His highness King Thingol requested that it be you given the personal longevity you've given to this project."

 _King Thingol can't begin to tell me apart from anyone else from Belegost,_ Thevina had thought to herself, but she recognized after these decades with so many Elves that ritual and decorum were of tremendous importance. She had been paid quite handsomely, and it was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. Though with what she'd been hearing from Davina, having established her own renowned guild of smiths and forgers in Nogrod, perhaps that was changing.

She was brought back to the present by a totally unexpected brief choral interlude sung by Elves who she mostly couldn't tell apart herself, but she was nearly certain she'd not seen inside the Zeleg before. As the sonorous waves bathed the attendees, with a shock Thevina realized they were attempting to sing in Khuzdul. Startled at the recognition, her gaze snapped up to the royal countenances above her. Thingol's eyes were closed, but Melian's lips bore an enigmatic smile, further enhanced by a decidedly mischievous twinkle in her eyes. For an instant Thevina thought the Elvish queen had winked at her, but that was instantly such an absurd concept that she dismissed it as her own eyes playing tricks. The vocal ensemble appeared to be singing a panegyric of gratitude and hope for long-lived friendship. While parts were quite clear, the lack of similar consonants and syntax muddied the aural message.

All at once, an unplanned message of what to say to the assembly came to her. The gift was timely as the choral offering wound down and after brief applause, the focus of dozens of eyes returned to her.

"You are invited to share a few words, master rockwright," Melian said, her words a stream burbling along a glade.

Thevina swallowed, nodded, and turned partially around, her arms wide to recognize all those in attendance.

"We are a young race," she said in fluent Sindarin, "and from the time Mahal crafted us as a people, we've been known for our skill in crafts, in hewing stone, in engineering, and enjoying song and spirits. None of us, most especially myself, ever felt we were drawn to be emissaries, or ambassadors. And yet, thanks to the invitation granted by your Lord and Lady, here I stand. I've lived and worked on this glorious stronghold more years by far than I spent prior in my own land of Belegost.

"While I haven't asked permission to do this, given mine and my guildfolk's commitment to this project, I feel I have the authority to extend an open invitation to all Elves of this kingdom to visit us at any time. As an unplanned ambassador, I say that you are most welcome, any time."

A nearly silent yet palpable energy sparked through the assembly as Thevina brought her short declaration to a close. 

"May Dwarf- and Elvenkind always work so well together," she concluded.

"Hear, hear!" Queen Melian cheered, her enthusiasm catching Thevina completely off guard.

Thingol's eyebrows rose, perhaps as surprised as Thevina, but he too, nodded and held out his hands in a gesture of openness. 

"Long may our two peoples have such amiable and beneficial relations, honorary emissary Thevina," the king stated, a smile in his eyes. "You and yours are welcome to return and visit whenever you wish."

Thevina's heart felt unexpectedly warm at his generous offer, though she was nearly certain that her life plan didn't include a return to the Zeleg. _There could be maintenance, or new additions, and your presence may yet be requested,_ the practical voice in her mind pointed out to her. _And what of Ellidor? Will you be content only to correspond by letter, especially with such infrequent couriers?_

She wrenched herself out of her reverie to thank the king and queen, then bowed slightly and waited to be dismissed.

"Let us celebrate this auspicious day!" Thingol said to the crowd, freeing Thevina from the last of her formal duties. "Today we establish this stronghold of Menegroth, a feat of renown to be commemorated for generations to come." 

"I am certain of your gratitude that it is now time to eat, drink and be merry!" Ellidor said a little while later, leaning down to speak more privately into her ear. "Your astute observational powers aren't needed to know that!" Thevina replied, heaping her plate with roasted hare, an unplanned legacy of the pregnant Flopsy she'd brought from home all those years ago.

"May I trouble you for your candor?" Ellidor asked, the gravity in his tone reminding Thevina of the very real departure she would soon be taking.

"You know full well I've given you nothing else, especially these last few years," she said, grasping at levity out of habit and realizing she was disappointed in herself. "Apologies, Ellidor," she continued in haste. "You're being honest and I defaulted to a superficiality I don't truly feel." She looked around at the lines of tables set up under shaded canopies. "Shall we take a seat?"

Her companion regarded the layout between the woods and the bridge across the river and then nodded toward a mostly-empty table not too far from them. "Does that suit?"

"Yes. It seems there are wine servers everywhere I look, so that element we needn't worry about. Let's go enjoy the banquet."

Once seated at a table sheltered by the silvery leaves of the native trees, Thevina eagerly began partaking of the fine food to which she'd grown accustomed.

"I'm so spoiled!" she said, spreading a generous swath of herbed butter on two wheat rolls. "Dwarvish food will seem so rustic compared to the diversity I'm used to. So good!" she moaned through a mouthful of perfectly baked bread.

"You could always stay," Ellidor said at her side.

"Your king said I could visit any time," she corrected after swallowing some heavenly fruity wine. "He did not, that I recall, say that I could stay. Are you certain you were listening to the same speech?"

Ellidor jostled her gently with his elbow, an action now fraught with the weight of it being yet another comforting aspect of the life she'd made for herself soon to be experienced for the last time.

"I'm not in the inner circle of our lord and lady," Ellidor said, holding a plum with a sensual delicacy that affected Thevina in a most distracting manner she fought to ignore and lost. "But you are unique in the role you have occupied. You and I have spoken often about how much personal reward you have experienced here at the Zeleg. Is there really so much compelling awaiting you back at your mountain?"

Thevina's focus had faltered at hearing Ellidor say the Dwarvish word for 'great work.' Had he always used it? When had she ever called it that in front of him, since the language they shared was the Elvish one spoken by all present? She struggled and caught up to his question.

"Well, no. Well, yes," she said, stumbling to answer with coherence.

Ellidor chuckled, taking a bite of plum. "Perhaps all of this sun and heat is having an effect on you after all."

"You're provoking me," Thevina grumbled good-naturedly. She looked at Ellidor, his braids decorated with sprigs of honeysuckle. On his face she saw his familiar kind expression, a face that she thought should have laugh lines etched at the corners of his mouth and at his eyes as hers did. Time didn't seem to visit Elves in the same manner as it did her kin.

"There's nothing at home to work on that approaches the scale of this stronghold," Thevina said, heavily salting an ear of corn. "So in that sense, no, there's not much that I know of that, work-wise, will be as compelling as all I've had the privilege of fashioning and transfiguring here. But Davina, or Gamil Zirak as she's begun calling herself now, has several sons being raised in Belegost. I wish to spend time with them before they return to her in Nogrod. I don't honestly know how close your Elvish families are, as we haven't lived together in proximity for me to have any real sense of that. Among my kindred, family is the keystone to our society. So I find that particular part of my homecoming to be quite compelling." 

She paused, taking a moment to listen to the snatches of conversation drifting down the table. "To be honest, Ellidor, and I've only ever been honest with you, I don't know how homey the homecoming will feel. I've spent most of my life here, among both Dwarves and Elves in this creative, thriving environment. Back at the Blue Mountains, I may no longer feel at home."

Ellidor's face brightened and he beamed at her. "All the more reason for you to stay!"

A truth she didn't want to confront broke through Thevina's carefully constructed fortress and to her dread, she felt her eyes get hot, tears threatening. She _wanted_ to stay. To have more time exploring her craft, with Ellidor. To regain her composure, she smiled and wiped at her beard and mustache, blinking back any actual wetness at her eyes. 

"I don't know how this has happened," she said slowly, first looking down at her hands and then turning her gaze fully to her companion. "You've become my very closest friend in the world. Even more—" The words stuck in her throat, but she forced them out, "Even more than Davina. My own twin. Of course I don't want to leave! But what would I do? The whole idea is nonsense. It's absurd!" she said, looking into his eyes. When she saw how overjoyed he seemed, in his own subdued manner, she felt her world turning inside out.

"I don't think the idea is at all absurd," he said, moving his hand nearer to hers, a hair's breadth from touching, yet intimate all the same. "You've supplied myriad reasons to stay. You could go and visit your nephews and your sister, stay a while at both locations, then come back. To us. To me," he said, his gaze holding hers. He wasn't begging, or pleading, not that she would necessarily recognize that emotion in him.

 _Oh yes you would,_ Thevina scolded herself. _You've grown to recognize his feelings as easily as Zîka's, or Blondur, or anyone else you've worked with for years in this carved Elvenhome._

"You and I," she started to say when she sensed a presence approaching from behind them. 

"Dear Rockwright! Ellidor!" Queen Melian said in greeting, walking around the edge of the table to stand, a warm smile on her lips. "I would like to share the table with you for a little conversation. I hope I do not interrupt?"

The queen's gaze somehow went through Thevina in a manner that felt as though her mind and heart had been viewed, not her exterior. 

"No! I mean, of course. Please, take a seat," Thevina said. Her fork dropped to the ground in a suddenly clumsy attempt to wave at the empty space across from her. She floundered, wondering whether to excuse herself to retrieve the fork, when Ellidor said, "Here— use mine," handing her his fork before waving to an attendant.

The Elvish queen sat down, her elegance preternatural. For a crazy moment, Thevina wondered if she really was of this world. Perhaps she was one of the mythical entities who had fashioned this very earth and only decked herself out in an Elvish shape of flesh.

"I found your words today particularly inspiring," Melian said, lifting her chin in affirmation to an offered chalice presented by a courtier. "I should think it in all of our interests for Elves and Dwarves to sustain relationships of alliance and support."

Pride erupted in Thevina, her heart thumping like the hammer of a forger over her anvil.

"I appreciate your kind words," she said. "We seem well suited to be allies and friends for all time. I've no doubt should you need it, though that seems unlikely, we wouldn't hesitate to come to your aid. You've enriched so many of us."

Melian nodded slowly, gesturing at them to continue eating. 

"You spoke of being an unexpected ambassador. I wonder," she said, her expression blooming into that of a most refined self-satisfaction, "within that context, might you not take an emissary back with you? Ellidor, here. He has been an overseer at your side for a long time now, is not that so?"

Thevina turned her head to look at Ellidor, gratified to see the similar shock she felt carved on his features. 

"It is so. I have," Ellidor replied, unexpectedly taking Thevina's hand in his. "Ours has been a most unique coupling of creativity, learning and tremendous respect. If Thevina feels I would be welcomed as a grateful representative of Menegroth, it would be the honor and experience of a lifetime to spend time amongst her kinfolk and guild associates."

Thevina sat in a stunned silence. The queen had just, quite possibly, changed Thevina's life forever.

If the queen's face could have resembled anything more content than Ellidor's hound, Daisy, with a bone in her mouth, Thevina couldn't imagine it. 

"What say you, then, Thevina of Belegost? May I count on you to safeguard and warmly welcome my kinsman and representative as you take him to your home and people?"

"Of course," Thevina rasped. She cleared her throat and more loudly said, "Yes, of course. It's my privilege."

Dazed, Thevina thought perhaps Melian was truly glowing from the inside, radiating light like that which shone from the distant Trees.

"Excellent!" Melian said. "Well, I am sure you both have much to discuss, so I will take my leave."

"My lady," Ellidor said, lowering his gaze and squeezing Thevina's hand.

A few moments went by, blood roaring in Thevina's ears. The queen had just sent Ellidor home with her.

"So!" Ellidor said, his eyes shining with a playful joy she'd never seen before. "I must go pack."

"Yes," Thevina said slowly, squeezing Ellidor's hand in return. "Yes you must."

She began to take back her hand when Ellidor held it more tightly. 

"This is as much a surprise to me as to you," he said earnestly. "It would never have occurred to me even to suggest such a thing."

"Nor I," Thevina said, running her thumb against the soft pad of his palm. She looked at him, excitement causing her to feel far more intoxicated than the wine could account for. Beaming at him, she said, "It appears I'm meant to make more history." 

Ellidor raised an eyebrow, quirking his mouth to one side. "We, you mean."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding to a vision she couldn't wait to map out. "Let's go forge a new future." 


End file.
